


you had me at hello

by Hydra_Trash_Gal



Series: Mission: Becoming Winter [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Misunderstandings, Other, Pining, Unhealthy Relationships, sad steeb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 09:38:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17640308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hydra_Trash_Gal/pseuds/Hydra_Trash_Gal
Summary: the mission reaches it’s completion





	you had me at hello

**Author's Note:**

> finally, the last part is completed and about 5,000 words so I apologize for the wait but thank you everyone who’s commented and voted on this so far, you’re all the best! 
> 
> Thank you Kalika999 for chatting with me about this fic so much. Your encouragement helped me finally finish it. 
> 
> not beta-read so all mistakes are my own.

Steve had an overwhelming abundance of expectations when he saw Bucky on that bridge and Sam had told him time and time again that things wouldn't be like they used to. 

Steve knew that, really he did. 

Bucky wouldn't remember everything and that was expected — but Bucky wasn't supposed to hate Steve. It made his throat feel raw and his chest ache like he was having an asthma attack. He was trying to remind Bucky of the time before the war but there was a disconnect there that just wouldn't reattach. 

The Winter Soldier was a physical replica of James Barnes but he wasn't him, Steve was realized with a cold feeling building inside him. Since the gum incident, since the hug the feelings of poorly repressed loathing toward Tony had practically doubled. He was completely disgusted with himself because he should have been happy that Bucky was connecting with someone — anyone — but instead he sat and glared at the same piece of plaster on the wall whenever Bucky was gone because he knew he was with him. 

And the hardest bit to swallow was not that he looked at Steve with a blank gaze of purposely disguised emotion or the way he lit up when Stark entered the room, but the fact he was doing so much better. The steady diet of calorie dense, offensive-looking protein sludge was finally improving because Tony Stark offered him bits of food. Bucky acted as if he'd never been graced with such things before despite the full plates Steve offered him with the shakes every day that were ignored almost religiously. 

He was significantly more interested in food lately. Whenever anyone was eating Bucky was there, a bit too close (personal space was a new concept for him and Steve didn't mind his body all but pressing against his side as his sniper-gaze zeroed in on whatever he was eating) but for others, like Sam, it was a bit intimidating. Bucky's tone of curiosity was more grilling than it was friendly. 

It didn't bother Steve when Bucky stood nearly on top of Clint who was eating the chocolate pieces of the trail mix but when he did it to Stark he had to watch how tightly he was holding on to the things around him. His flimsy excuses of 'I forget my strength' were getting pathetic when it happened every time Bucky's attention was centered solely on Stark. 

And he was quickly running out of glasses, all of them shattering in his unforgiving grip when he found himself lost in thralls of jealousy. It was ugly of him and unforgivable but he couldn't help it. Steve was selfish when it came to Bucky and before, when they were more than just best pals, that was okay. Now, however he needed to follow Natasha’s advice on the bride. He needed to learn to let go. 

"Hi Bucky," Steve paused in the kitchen doorway, hand resting on the doorframe partially to ensure this wasn't a dream (seeing Bucky between the hours of 7 am and 6 pm was an incredible rarity now he had attached himself to Stark's hip) and partially to seem unaffected by his presence.

Steve was still quite surprised to see him in the kitchen in general, no matter the time of day. Then again Stark was probably off at some conference and Bucky had no where else to be. It didn't mean anything, he told himself firmly. Bucky had not spontaneously decided he wanted to spend time with him. 

Bucky looked owlishly at him with a slow blink that showed he trying to formulate a response. "Steve Rogers," he finally said which was apparently all he had to say before turning back toward the fridge which Steve realized was open.

"Are you hungry?" Steve cursed himself for the eagerness in his voice but couldn’t help but add, "I could make us some lunch?"

He'd eaten already but he always had room for more — especially if it was a meal he could share with Bucky. He was an idiot because he could already think of all the meals they had shared before. His ma's cooking, the scarce bits of food when they were in Brooklyn, rations in the army — did Bucky remember? 

"No." 

He was the stupidest man on earth for feeling deflated. He should have expected as much but still, he let himself be disappointed. "Oh." That did not answer why he was gazing into the fridge as if he was interrogating the food. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Bucky made a long-suffering sigh that was purely Tony Stark and the Steve drew back, offended and a bit annoyed. "No Steve Rogers." There was a not-so-subtle hunch of his shoulders, tension knotting the lines of muscle on his back highlighted so beautifully on the charcoal tee. Steve was almost hurt enough to ignore it...almost. 

"Okay then why are you in the fridge?" Steve nearly crossed his arms before he remembered the way Bucky always averted his eyes, head bowing in submission. He didn't want to try and impose his will on Bucky. If he wanted to be rude to Steve that was, in a sense, a good thing. It meant he was thinking on his own. "If you leave it open the food'll go bad."

The door swung shut and Bucky, utterly expressionless, leveled him a look. Steve smiled, memories sharp and far too painful. Bucky glanced away from him. "Research," Bucky said tersely. "Steve Rogers said — "

Steve could live another hundred years without having 'Steve Rogers said' thrown back in his face in response to his questions. "I know what I said Bucky. But nothing I've said has anything to do with leaving the fridge open for no reason." Steve wasn't supposed to treat Bucky like he was incompetent because he wasn't, as Sam loved to point out. He was arguable the most capable of them all. "Do you want a shake?"

A slow blink and then Bucky rolled his goddamn eyes. Steve was stuck somewhere between ecstatic and the emotion display and furious because it was such a Stark move. "No Steve Rogers." 

He stood expectantly to the left of Steve by the doorway. Feeling numb Steve stepped aside and watched Bucky move pointedly toward the elevator. 

"Where are you going?" Steve wanted to slap himself for asking. 

He stopped mid-stride and turned to face him. 

"Steve Rogers says that Bucky is allowed to go where he wants. He doesn't need permission." 

Steve exhaled heavily. "I know what I said Bucky." He didn't want to sound annoyed but Christ, he was more lonely than ever now Bucky was back. Because he'd had a taste of getting back someone he'd cared so deeply about. 

"I was just...curious. Friends care about those things y'know?"

Bucky looked at him a long moment. 

"If I find a friend I will let him know what I am doing. I do not expect to." 

He nodded his head firmly in a decisive manner to his own words and Steve wondered if he could hear the sound of his heart breaking. 

Bucky stepped into the elevator and Steve turned away. So Bucky did not even consider them friends anymore. Steve's eyes prickled with tears and he clenched his jaw. No, he wouldn't cry because that was wasted effort. He... He was fine. 

He changed into work out clothing and swiped the back of his hand over his eyes more times than he cared to admit. He was ashamed of how weak he was in this and that he couldn't be happy for Bucky reaching out to other people. He hit the punching bag far too hard with improper form. He could feel the hairline fractures in his wrists and knuckles but he kept swinging. Each sharp jolt of pain was nothing compared to what he was feeling currently.

What if Bucky never came back to Steve?

Steve found himself breathing raggedly all of sudden, like he'd been winded. Maybe he had just been forgetting to breath regularly. The bag swung, still intact because Tony fucking Stark designed it so it had to be perfect. 

Steve had never given their arrangement a label — back in their day they wouldn't have gotten anywhere but killed. Now things were different but so were they. Steve grabbed the bag to stop its swaying and then found himself clinging to it as his gasping breathes suddenly seemed far too close to sobs. 

He couldn't break down. Not here where anyone could see and know that Steve was a complete and utter piece of shit for not recognizing Bucky's trauma and free will. So what he chose Tony. He was allowed to do whatever made him happy and if that was no longer Steve then... 

He wished the Valkyrie was still at the bottom of the Atlantic or that Bucky had been able to finish the mission on the bridge because he didn't know if he could survive this feeling for long. He found himself on his knees, the bag all that left to hold him upright as he heaved in deep breathes. By some utter miracle no one had stumbled upon his moment of defeat.

He was able to stumble on the showers and piece himself back together. Or at least reassemble the broken bits to something that no one save for Sam or Nat would notice. Steve wasn't alone, not completely. He had Sam and Nat and Clint and Bruce though his science stuff didn't make much sense to him and Thor whenever he was on Earth. 

Steve was starving, as he always was, but going into the kitchen put him at risk of recounting the shattering blow that their past relationship meant nothing to Bucky. Not even friends much less what they once were. So Steve fiddled with the StarkPhone and sent a message to Clint who replied relatively promptly that he wanted to get something to eat but had a meeting with Coulson. 

Natasha did not respond. 

Sam was leading a group at the VA Hospital and offered him a chair which was probably a kind gesture but Steve declined immediately. He didn't trust himself to be able to filter his feelings and not start crying in front of strangers. 

He retreated to his bedroom, just as impersonal as it was when he arrived. The bed made to military standards and all surfaces almost empty of anything personal. The Shield was propped up in the corner, a mocking reminder of what Steve had been. 

He sat heavily in the desk chair and flipped open to a fresh page of his sketchbook. Drawing was a distraction but so was everything Steve did when Bucky was...gone. As if Bucky had come back. His mind wandered back to Brooklyn, back to the secretive smiles they could share when no one was looking, back to the way Bucky held his hand and told him he was his 'best fella' because saying 'I love you' back then would not have been allowed. 

When he looked down at the sketch pad he had drawn the Soldier. The muzzle, the blank eyes looking at Steve, long strands of greasy hair hanging around the bit of his face that was exposed. Steve exhaled slowly and set down the pad with a shaking hand. Bruises were blossoming beneath the skin; the dull throbbing of a knuckle set improperly finally occurred to him. He ignored it in favor of tearing of the page out and ripping it apart as if it would somehow erase what his best friend, his lover, his Bucky had been turned into. 

Then he put his head in his hands and willed himself to get a grip. 

Steve's existence did not depend solely on Bucky's adoration and affection. He was becoming his own person, under his own direction and guise. How was he any better than Hydra if he tried to form him into the man he remembered rather than who he wanted to be? 

"Captain," Jarvis' voice broke through the clouding thoughts vying for dominance in Steve's head. "Sargent Barnes is waiting at the dining room table."

At least Bucky still came to him for meals even if the only thing he would consume were those shakes. Steve never knew what to say when he saw Bucky, never knew how to react when his glassy eyes fell on him. "Hey Buck." His mouth felt awfully dry. "Hungry?"

"You're injured." Bucky's attention was focused on his hand and Steve felt warmth creep up his neck. "You should go to medical."

"I'll be fine," Steve smiled. "I'll get you your shake."

Bucky stood up and took a step toward him before pausing. It took a moment for. Steve to realize his body had stiffened up defensively. He forced himself to relax and Bucky held up his hands in a surrendering gesture. He took another step and Steve felt his heart rate increase. 

Thoughts of danger, danger, danger mixed with Bucky, Bucky, Bucky and he tried to think of the last time Bucky approached him since his arrival. 

Two times came to mind. The first when he was the Soldier, prowling toward him — and it had ended with a shattered cheekbone and broken jaw. The second was after Bucky was brought into the Tower, when Steve showed him his room and he fell to his knees, called him Sir and tried to undo his pants. 

Steve did not want any repeats of either. Bucky stopped, so close he could smell the soap on his skin — not the soap that Steve had bought but something different, expensive — and Steve's breathe caught. Bucky reached for his hand, face still unreadable as he examined his hand for a brief moment. The brush of skin was like fireworks — memories Steve was trying to keep buried playing like a reel. God how he has missed being touched by his Bucky.

"I require clothing for this evening." 

Steve has been trying not to think about the dinner. It wasn't that he was unhappy to see Thor, he just didn't want to think about the way his best friend would ignore him, how he would glue himself to Tony's side. "You have that blue nice shirt," he said, "and those khakis?"

"No." That was the old Bucky right? Always so careful about his appearance. A good sign — and he was asking Steve rather than Tony. That was a win. "I require better clothing."

"Uh okay. I can order something and have it brought here?" Steve didn't feel comfortable taking Bucky around civilians in a store. Too many variables, too many risks. "Is that okay?"

"It is acceptable." Bucky sat back at the table. "Something purple."

Steve pursed his lips at the color preference but nodded his head. Whatever Bucky wanted he was happy to give. He didn't remember him wearing purple before — that was Clint's thing — but things change, times change, Bucky himself had changed too. "Okay. Purple. I'll, uh, I'll go work on that."

"I require sustenance," Bucky rolled his eyes. "That is why I am here Steve Rogers."

Steve huffed out a short breath. It was good that Bucky was being expressive but Christ, he just wanted him to be civil about it. "Why don't you help me." he said instead. 

Bucky's brow furrowed. "I am allowed to control my own caloric intake?" he asked with an air of suspicion. 

"Yeah Buck, I told you — "

"Show me how." Bucky stopped him quickly seeming eager.

It was good he wanted to learn new things but that also eradicated any reliance between them and that made Steve chest grow tight, like an asthma attack or the feeling he got whenever he thought about Bucky's fall. He hadn’t expected it to be so frightening of a loss but it was. "Tomorrow," It was pathetic and Steve knew it. "It's kinda complex and — " 

"I learn quickly." Bucky insisted. "Please. Steve Rogers said I am responsible for my own caloric intake."

Steve sighed. At least he had identified as Bucky in that sentence. "Okay."

What was wrong was with him? He would actually stunt his friend's progress because he was so afraid of no longer being needed? The process was impossible to drag out: two scoops of powder from the canister beside the blender and fill it up with water. 

"It is very complicated," Bucky agreed gravely. 

For a moment Steve was confused, and maybe even a bit thrilled that he could show Bucky again, but Bucky looked up toward the ceiling and then back at him. An eye roll. Sarcasm without tone. Thanks Tony Stark. Another stellar human-trait to teach Bucky. 

"And then you press the button." The dull sound of a thrumming engine filled the kitchen. Steve wanted to retreat. 

It's very complicated. Fuck you too, Buck. 

Bucky poured it into the glass and seemed genuinely satisfied with what he'd done. Steve felt guilty for waiting so long to give Bucky this opportunity. "You have to get me clothes for tonight," Bucky reminded him again. "Something purple."

"Yeah, Bucky. I'll...I'll go do that now okay?"

Bucky took the cup and sat at the table. Steve wanted to sit down with him but resisted the urge. "Okay."

•• •• •• ••

Thor's arrival was exactly as flashy and dramatic as it always was. Sam nudged Steve and commented that Tony must have been jealous he couldn't do the exact same thing and Steve was inclined to agree. The Asgardian was greeted with a firm hand shake and a smile that was bright and completely fake. 

"Greetings," Thor Odinson's voice always thundered around them. Steve's hearing was sensitive so it was a bit jarring to be close. "All is well, I hope?"

Not even close but that toothy grin remained and Steve was obligated to nod and agree. It felt like one of those get together from the War. He caught sight of Bucky, well put together and utterly dashing in the casual black dinner jacket, a purple shirt and black slacks and changed his mind. This was like a pre-War get together when Bucky was wooing some dame — except this time it wasn't a dame and Steve wouldn't be slipping into bed with him later. 

The conversation suffered as his silence dragged on and Thor pulled his attention back with a proclamation of needing a good drink. Steve knew he shouldn't — who knew how tonight could end up and did he really need his inhibitions altered? That disastrous movie night still plagued him. But once the shot was poured and mixed with the disgustingly expensive vodka Stark had laid out, Steve had trouble refusing. 

He had been on edge for months; he was exhausted, he was hurt, he was utterly heartbroken and in today's world (and back in the 30's) the best way to solve heartbreak was to drink. He threw back the liquor and it burned all the way down. It always caught him by surprise and Thor was always delighted by that as he drank significantly more and clapped him hard on the shoulder. 

"Now, my friend, it is truly a celebration. Where is your friend? The warrior of the frozen months."

Steve was still shuddering as his body processed the potent liquid. "With Tony," a pause, "as usual."

"Comrades then," Thor nodded his head agreeably. "Excellent! There is much to say of those skilled in the art of forgiveness."

Steve hadn't forgotten that the Winter Soldier has killed Tony's parents it just...didn't cross his mind often. He kept it out of thought because it made his insides twist up the same way they did whenever he reminded himself he had known the Winter Soldier killed Tony's parents but didn't tell him. 

"Mind if I have another one of those?" 

It was hard to mask the somber tone and Thor heard it as he gave the Captain a look of surprise.

"Good mead quells a sorrowful soul only temporarily," Thor said in his usual manner and Steve wanted to grind his teeth together. "But any reprieve is reprieve enough, should one be feeling down."

He poured another and Steve was even more generous with the additional vodka. Maybe he would drink the bottle knowing full well it would do little to nothing to him just so Stark would have to buy more. Not that it mattered: he had more money that one person should. Back in his day he and Bucky despised people like Tony Stark. Now Bucky was at his side listening eagerly to every dramatic word that came from his stupid mouth. 

"To whatever ails you, my friend. May you find comfort." Thor toasted his misery and Steve had to appreciate the thought. 

The liquor was still eating away his esophagus as he requested another. There was that warm fuzziness he remembered but once upon a time, before the serum, before he lost Bucky, that feel was all consuming. He wanted that. Steve wanted to be whisked away from reality, fueled with liquid courage. He wanted to not care so fucking much. He wanted it not to hurt that Tony was laughing at something Bucky had said (was Bucky capable of making jokes? he was always so serious with Steve) and had slung an arm over his shoulder. 

Thor poured him another and then went to speak with Natasha. 

That was fine. Perfectly fine. No one gave a shit about him anyway. Not Bucky. He sighed and leaned against the counter. Bucky's head tilted to rest against Tony's shoulder. 

The sound of the marble cracking filled the entire entertainment space and all eyes fell on Steve who flushed with anger. Why the fuck were they looking at him when Tony was over there taking advantage of Bucky, stealing him from Steve — some friend he was!

"Hey, man, you good?" Sam stride over with that warm smile that suddenly seemed so simpering and condescending. He knew everything was not good but he was still asking. The burning in his stomach was letting up as that fuzziness seemed to creep all around him.

"Good going Cap — I swear the amount of things I have to replace because of that grip of yours." Tony shook his head and Steve's teeth ground together. His hands curled into fists and he told himself to calm down but no, Tony was so goddamn rude. "Super soldier serum — between you and Barnes here I might as well leave my repairs tab open."

"Leave Bucky out of this!" Steve exploded because hell, Bucky would have been fine if he hadn't asked him to come along to fight Hydra. They would have been fine. 

"Do not yell at Tony Stark." Bucky stalked toward him and Steve balked. "You are no longer my Handler. Mind your own damn business. I am Tony Stark's person now."

Blood roared in Steve's ears. His chest ached and throat felt tight. That was it: the final blow. The thing he was trying to tell himself wasn't real did in fact exist and Stark and Bucky had been tossing it back into his face for months now. He was even more of a fool now than when he was risking both of their lives for heavy petting in a military tent. 

Briefly he wondered how much worse it would hurt if he wasn't drunk but he didn't need an audience for that. The humiliation was bad enough as the silence dragged on.

"Welcome back Thor," he finally said and with amazing poise he didn't realize he was capable of in such a state, walked to the elevator. 

No one went after him. No one cared. Steve wondered why they dragged him from the bottom of the ocean and really wished someone would put him back in the ice where he belonged.

•• •• •• ••

A weight fell from Winter's shoulders as he pivoted around to face Tony Stark. 

An afternoon of practicing his smile and those words had paid off. He was free. He was finally free with no Handler to hurt him or take him away the one thing that made him happy. He wanted to laugh but more than that he wanted to solidify his role as Tony Stark's person. 

In all of Winter's research the claim of adoration was followed by the kiss which he had intended to be done over the plate of spaghetti so Tony Stark would think he was romantic and not weird but dinner was not spaghetti so now he had a new plan. 

He stepped close to Tony Stark who's face was still frozen and a bit confused and touched his face gently. Soft skin, soft facial hair, more beautiful than ever up close. Tony Stark's pulse was racing and that was good. Arousal meant an uptick in heart rate. "What are you doing?" Tony Stark asked quietly in awe. 

The look in his eyes was close to fear but intense emotion caused fear in people. That was normal Winter had no cause to be concerned.

Winter quickly scrolled through all the replies he had heard used in his research on romance. It had to be perfect for Tony Stark.

"You had me at hello."

Tony Stark's mouth pressed together in a thin line and no, miscalculation. A clarification response then, for when they didn’t realize their person loved them. Winter was thankful he had done so much research as he quickly said, "Don't forget I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her." 

Tony inhaled sharply eyes bright with emotion and Winter could finally consider his mission complete. 

Tony Stark's mouth fell open slightly, no doubt to say the returning romantic line but Winter was eager to kiss him. Their lips molded against each other and Tony stiffened up a bit. Winter doubted his skills — he had no practice, not since the small blond man but no, wasn’t meant to think about him — and instead tried to redirect his efforts. His pressed closer, flesh hand falling down to cup his groin because people liked to be touch there. 

Hands pushed against him... Tony Stark's hands? His eyes were wide and the look was not one of romance but...anger? Winter obediently withdrew and Tony Stark staggered back several feet. "What-what the hell was that?" 

Winter looked down, scorned. He should have practiced first, endured his kiss would be perfect before he attempted to kiss Tony Stark. "I'll be better at it next time." He swore. "I'll do more research."

Tony Stark looked around wildly. "Anyone want to step here because I'm pretty fucking lost."

"James," Natalia said carefully, "When you said you're Tony's person you meant romantically, didn’t you?"

"Not all the time. Only when Miss Potts is gone," he clarified. "I can complete any tasks asked of me. I will be more competent than all of your other machines. You won't be sorry Tony Stark. I promise you."

Tony Stark looked dazed. "Tell me this isn't actually happening Jarvis."

"You do not seem to be hallucinating or under the influence of any foreign substances." The man-in-the-wall reported. "It would appear Sargent Barnes intends to enter a relationship with you in Miss Potts' absence."

"Thanks for the recap Jar," Tony Stark did not look thankful for it and Winter began to think he made a terrible miscalculation on if Tony Stark wanted a part-time person. "Can't say I ever thought I'd have to have this talk with someone but uh, I'm flattered but politely decline."

No. No that wasn't right — Winter was romantic. He saved Tony Stark and he followed all the rules. The mission was complete: why wouldn't Tony Stark accept him as his person? He was confused but pain spiderwebbed through him as well. "But why?" People asked questions, he was allowed to ask now too. Mission complete: Winter was a person now. "I love you."

Tony cringed. "Oh man, don't do that. You — we're friends. Clint? Help."

Barton held up his hands and offered no advice. "Super Soldier's don't confess their love to me man. I have no clue." 

Tony Stark dragged his hand over his face. "Look, we're friends. Friends hang out and work on stuff in the lab and I fix your arm, right? We don't...kiss or touch each other below the bellybutton. This a purely 'no touchy' area," Tony waved his hand in front of his crotch. "This ‘Tony Stark's person’ thing — you're not anyone's person. I don't have a person. You don't belong to anyone Winter and that was the point of all of this."

It didn't make sense. He always belonged to someone. 

Winter's head hurt and...his feelings hurt too. He had feelings now he was a person. "But Miss Potts?" Winter had been told she was his person. Did she know this rule too? 

"She's my girlfriend, Winter. Not my ‘person’.” Tony Stark stresses. 

Winter had done significant research for all variables but not this one.. "I don’t understand.” 

“Jesus Christ." Tony Stark paced a bit. "God, where's Rogers when you need him — or right, hating me because I accidentally stole his fucking boyfriend."

"Steve Rogers is not my Steve." Winter suddenly was very upset. "He lies. My Steve was small and — this Steve Rogers, he...he was my Handler but not anymore because I’m a person."

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright. Let's sit down and have a chat Winter. I think there's been some misunderstandings."

Winter's feet dragged and his heart was heavy. 

As Tony reiterated over and over again that they were friends and he would never love him ‘like that’ but offered no example of how he would love him, Winter took solace in the fact that it hurt and he wanted to shed tears because of it. These were human emotions. 

Being Tony Stark's person, even temporarily for those glorious seconds, still made him human. He was thankful for that. And for the fact he had felt their lips touch even if they would never get the chance to experience that again.

**Author's Note:**

> so I definitely left I open ended so you can decide how things went from there. Kinda bitter-sweet I know and not exactly traditional winteriron pairing so I hope no one’s disappointed.   
> title (and quote in the fic) comes from film “Jerry Maguire”  
> second quote in the fic comes from film “Notting Hill”
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed it and that it was the worth the wait. please let me know what you thought!


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